Red in the Face
by b9je
Summary: Grace/Rigsby, Jane/Lisbon in later chapters. After a confusing night, Van Pelt will learn the importance of a man who won't leave your side. My first Mentalist story, so please give it a chance.
1. Chapter 1

**_An/ Hey there! This is my first non-Criminal Minds story, so I may need some help. I know Criminal Minds a whole lot better than I know the Mentalist, though I absolutely love it. So if I get something wrong or anything, please let me know! Now that its settled that if I get any of the particulars wrong, you have a duty to tell me, lets move on._**

**_This is Rigsby/Grace because I painstakingly love them but I have it on good authority (Since you know, I am the author) that there will be some Jane/Lisbon, because, why wouldn't there be? Jisbon is an awesome ship._**

**_Thanks for reading!_**

**_Chapter One_**

"I thought I turned you off." Grace Van Pelt muttered to her alarm clock as her head remained buried in the pillow. She swatted at the night stand, though her hand never made contact with the dark oak drawer set. She attempted again, still to no avail. It took a few moments for real thinking to set in, as she had never been, nor would she ever be a morning person. Her first thought, when cognition actually became an option was that her alarm clock sounded awfully different. Hers was normally on an annoying beep, something that always managed to irritate her out of bed, but this--this was different. There was music playing, she didn't even know that her alarm clock could do that.

As she peered up to look at the rogue device, she found the shock of her life. Her alarm clock on the bedside table wasn't facing her. She wasn't sure where she was at but she sure wasn't in her bedroom. The more she looked around, the more confused she became. How in the world did she get here? Last thing she remembered...well, she didn't remember what she last remembered. She faintly recalled leaving work the day before, remembering how she resisted running Cho over with her car for him throwing yet another fit about the pineapple on the pizza, but nothing past that. She put her hand to her head, trying to rub out the throbbing pain that resonated from her temples. She felt nauseous laid back down, suddenly feeling nauseous. Grace looked down at herself, suddenly wondering what in the world she had been up to. Now wearing an over sized UCLA t-shirt that went well past her knees that she didn't recognize, she suddenly worried that she may have been up to some morally questionable activities. She felt around her breasts, feeling that she had no underclothes on. She groaned, praying that her loved ones in the afterlife didn't see her falling off the band wagon last night.

She heard a soft shuffle at the door before it opened, someone instantly hitting the off button of the alarm clock that she now saw was next to the door.

"Sorry, I forgot to turn it off." The familiar voice of Wayne Rigsby said apologetically. "How did you sleep?" He handed her a water bottle and two Motrin as if he anticipated her scratchy, parched throat. She looked him over, noting that he must have just gotten out of the shower. He now donned a pair of jeans and a Green t-shirt that hugged his well toned body. Grace had kept it a well hidden secret, but she loved how big he was. Whenever she was with him, she couldn't help but feel like he could protect her.

She gladly took the two pills along with a healthy swig of water. "What am I doing here?" She asked, her eyes dawning with the realization that she might have..."Oh no."

"What?" He chuckled , taking the water bottle and setting it on his cherry dresser set.

"We didn't--" She trailed, incapable of actually addressing the words. "Did we?"

He shook his head, smiling at her sigh of relief.

"Oh that was..._close._" She breathed gratefully. "Not that there would have been anything wrong with _it_ if we had indeed..." She said searchingly. "Did _it, _but---"

"Save it Grace." He said, relieving her of her backtracking mission. "I get it, this wouldn't have been exactly ideal." _For you._ He added mentally, eyeing her cautiously as she continued to breathe her way through the awkwardness. There was a slight pang he felt within himself as he watched her. This was where she belonged, here with him, but he knew he would never have it. Not with her at least, she had made that abundantly apparent. It wasn't that he couldn't find anyone else, he had a few women he knew would take him up on the offer the moment he gave it, but he simply didn't want any other women. No one held the appeal for him like Gracie did. No one.

"Thanks Rigsby." She said, biting her lip nervously. This was definitely an awkward turn of events. Never in a million years would she have expected to be in Rigsby's bed without her clothes on...well, that was a lie. She had dreamed of an occurrence but it seemed to turn out differently, but this...this was real. And for once in her perfectly formed life, Grace didn't know how to handle what was in front of her. "If we didn't..." She trailed, again alluding to the word she was far too embarrassed to say. "Then what am I doing here?"

"You know," He began gingerly, not really knowing how to break this to her. "I was sort of hoping that you could explain that to me, actually."

"Oh man." She said, running her hand through her hair, eyes wide with panic. "This is not good."

"Well, where did you go last night?" He asked, sitting on the bed, but kept far enough away from her to allow her space. "You were your regular self yesterday and then, you came here and..."

"And what?"

"You were drunk. I'm not talking like, drunk, but like Nascar fan style drunk." He admitted, watching her face flush a brilliant shade of red.

"Well, if my dad taught me anything." She surmised coldly. "What was the date yesterday?"

"June tenth." He said, unsure that would spur her memory.

"Got it." She whispered sheepishly as she smacked her hand to her head. "It was um...a bachelorrette party that I had to go to but I would have much rather not." She informed for his benefit. "And by the sounds of it, I had a great time." Although she had no idea what had happened. She was sure though that it had to have been big.

"I would have to agree." He shrugged, trying to lighten the mood.

"So, why am I not wearing clothes?" She asked callously, figuring that if she gave every single aspect of this its proper allotment of awkwardness, she would die from embarrassment. It was just so much better ripping off the band aid as a whole rather than picking at it.

"That's an _interesting_story." He said delicately, not sure of how to proceed. "You arrived at my door and asked to come in, so naturally, I let you in. And then I went to grab you some water and some Tylenol and then, when I came back you were..." He couldn't finish, he just knew he couldn't do it.

"So I just stripped in your living room?" Van Pelt scoffed disgustedly. "This is so inappropriate."

"You were _really_ drunk." Wayne repeated, feeling as though it was the only effective way to explain how he felt.

"And you are sure that nothing happened?" Grace asked firmly, completely sick, and she was sure it had nothing to do with the hang over that had now taken over her body.

"Grace, give me some credit. I would never take advantage of you like that." Rigsby said defensively. "I worked as fast as I could and grabbed you a shirt, despite the fact you were trying to seduce me." He felt a little hurt that she thought that low of him. He loved Grace more than anything else on this earth and would kill anyone who tried that with her, himself included.

"Oh no." Grace moaned softly, burrying her face in her hands. "This cannot be happening."

"Well it looks like it is."

"Alright." She said finally, taking control over the situation. "Where are my clothes?"

"Right here." He said, grabbing them from the top of the dresser and tossing them to her.

"Alright." She said, gathering the scattered articles. "Close your eyes."

_But I've already seen everything. _Rigsby thought to himself as he complied. He heard nothing as Van Pelt hurried and shrugged the clothes on.

"Alright, I'm decent." She called after a minute. "I .should go, thanks for everything." She said nervously, waving before she darted out of the bedroom. She was sure that this was it. This was the part where her life was officially over, but what she didn't realize was that she was wrong. This was just the begining of it.

**_An/ So this is the beginning of it. I hope you liked it. THANKS FOR READING! Let me know if you want me to continue it, although, I probably will anyway. But just remember that reviews entice good karma :) and we could all use a little bit of that!_**


	2. Chapter 2

**_An/ Hey, thanks to all of you who reviewed and are reading this story, you are definitely on my happy feelings list along with whatever beautiful mind thought of the Rigsby/Van Pelt dynamic. Now you get to find out how Grace's visit really went._**

**_If the flashback part seems a little OOC, I can explain, alcohol does crazy things to people. Even controlled women like Grace. _**

**_I don't own the mentalist, which is probably good because if I did, it would turn into a meaningless fluff fest. So lets all be glad that the Mentalist is owned by someone sane who can keep the awesome feeling of the show and not me._**

**_Chapter Two_**

_Don't look at him, don't look at him, don't look at him...._Grace repeated in her head as she kept her eyes glued to her computer screen. As soon as she entered the CBI the Monday after her wonderful display of drunkitude at Rigsby's apartment, she knew that this was going to be a day that would be a challenge. She didn't quite know how to face the man who had inherently gotten quite the look at all she had to offer.

She knew she would have to talk to him eventually, they were working a case and so there was no way she could avoid him forever, but boy, did she wish she could. She had always prided herself on her ability to remain in control and to be responsible. Whatever running streak she had going was shattered that night, and that was far too hard to face. She sincerely hoped that he wouldn't think less of her, and prayed that he wouldn't tell anyone, especially Jane.

She glanced over, seeing Rigsby equally engrossed into his work. She was sure that everyone could have noticed the awkward tension between them, how could they not. While she often spent her days working feverishly, it was no secret that she and Rigsby made small moments in the day for some interaction. She knew she was considered high strung and sometimes a drag, but Wayne didn't make her feel that way. Around him, she always found a way to be her fun-loving self, a fun-loving self that rarely appeared while working.

On the otherside of the bullpen, Rigsby kept reciting his mantra silently to himself. _Don't look at her, don't look at her, don't look at her..._

He didn't know how to eat this all up. Everytime he even glanced at her, he thought of the sight of her that night. Oh how he wanted to have a taste of the feast that would have made any red blooded American man want to drool, but he resisted. It had been hard, but he resisted. This however didn't stop him from recalling the details of her clothing less body with great precision, though he averted his eyes the moment they popped back into his head. He loved Grace, and while he did, in fact, want to see her naked someday, he was sort of hoping for different circumstances. He knew it was old fashioned, but he didn't really want his first night to be spent with her while she was wasted.

He inadevertantly looked over, the mental images flooding back to him. _Stop it Rigsby, just stop it. You don't want to be the pervert who's mentally undressing a coworker. Stop it..._ He looked back up taking an innocent peek at her, suddenly having to start his chastisement again.

He thought back to that..._interesting_ Friday night, and all the revelations that had come. While he hadn't wanted to admit all of the details to Grace, they were burned into his mind.

_"What in the world?" Rigsby mumbled to himslf as he heard a knock on his door. He had no idea who would be trying to see him at midnight. His social life, due to the demands of his job, was slightly lacking and while he was no social pariah, he would be shocked if it was anyone besides his own mother. As he opened the door he was stunned to find that it wasn't his mother, but Grace Van Pelt._

_"Hey Wayne." She waved, stumbling slightly as she let herself in. He looked her over, laughing internally to himself. While Grace sober tugged at his heartstrings unbearably, there was something about her drunk that was plainly adorable. Her lipstick was smudged slightly, presumably from downing a beer (her drink of choice on the rare occasion that she did drink. He loved that about her. He loved that she was just a small town girl who was unpretentious.) He tried to look into her eyes, but they were squinting as to the point where they were closed._

_"Hi Grace." He said, putting a protective arm around her as she almost stumbled and fell on his rug. "What--uh--What are you doing here?"_

_"Tonight." She hiccuped, laughing a little. He would have never predicted her to be a giggly drunk, but then, he would have never predicted her showing up at his house sloshed either. "I had to go to this bachelorette party and it was for my ex-boyfriend's fiancee..." She began epically as Rigsby eased her onto his couch. "And I now totally realize something, but you're going to have to keep it a secret." She whispered seriously, her eyes growing wide._

_"I don't know if that's such a great idea, you know, telling me a secret right now." He said as he plopped down next to her, unsure of how to really handle this strange situation. "Sweetheart..." The pronoun naturally slipped, causing her to smile a little. "You're a little bit wasted."_

_"Wayne." She said, drawing his name out for as long as she could. "You tell me secrets all the time. Like when you were on Painkillers or when you got hypnotized."_

_"I do." He said, suddenly panicking. "What secrets did I tell you?"_

_"That you love me." She said matter-of-factly. "Or when you got hypnotized, Jane tried to help you and he told to you to...well, its a long story. But in the end, you kissed me."_

_"Oh no." He said, hearing for the first time some of his actions around Grace. "I'm really sor--"_

_"Shhhh, I'm going tell you the secret now." She informed, putting her finger over his mouth. "But you can't tell anybody."_

_"I'm going to get you a drink of water and maybe some medicine." He deflected, getting up from the couch. "Then you can tell me the secret." He promised as he wondered if it was too late to call Jane. Jane would know how to get Van Pelt out of this._

_He ran to his kitchen and shuffled through his medicine drawer, pulling out a bottle of Motrin. Shuffling two small pills into the palm of his hand, he grabbed a glass and filled it with water. "Alright Gracie, I'm going to call Jane and have him figure out how to ermm...ugh..." He sputtered as he walked back into the room. His Gracie was still there, only, there was something missing._

_His first instinct was to gasp at how beautiful she was, but his gallant nature took over immeadiately and he smacked his hand over his eyes. "Gracie, sweeite, you're not...um...you're not wearing any clothes."_

_"You ARE perceptive." She teased. He chuckled appreciatively, at least he knew that even when drunk Grace retained her sarcasm._

_"Why are you not wearing any clothes Grace?" He asked, his hand still over his eyes._

_"You should be able to figure that out." She giggled mischievously. "There are only a few activities that the norm requires that you do naked."_

_"Oh dear." Rigsby groaned, trying to keep his testosterone in check. It was hard; this is what he had wanted for so long, but he wanted it from different means and he would wait until Grace knew what she was doing, even if he waited forever. Thinking quickly, he shut his eyes tightly before lifting off his UCLA t-shirt from his back. _

_"Ooo, so we ARE going to do it." Van Pelt cheered. Apparently she was also a chipper drunk. "And here I thought you were going to not give me what I wanted."_

_"I'm not." Rigsby insisted, holding the shirt out to her. "Put this on please."_

_"I never tire of seeing without a shirt." She mused as she took the article of clothing from him and slipped it on, rolling her eyes at his nobility._

_"Well, thanks." He sputtered thoughtlessly, not knowing what in the world was going on. "Are you dressed?"_

_"Depends on your definition." She surmised, wrinkling her nose as she contemplated. "But I guess for this situation, I'm dressed enough."_

_"Woowee." He let out, not knowing how this night could get any stranger. He took a good look at her now, and it made him ache. While this wasn't how he wanted things to go, this was what he wanted. He wanted Grace at his apartment late at night, he wanted her there every moment of the day. He wanted her wearing his shirts to bed. Shaking the images of what he wanted them to have from his mind, he grew serious. "Grace, what just happened there."_

_"Your shirt smells just like you, I like it." She noted with a smile before looking at him. "I uh...What was the question again?"_

_"You just took your clothes off Gracie, I need to know why." He pressed patiently, using the tone that he used with his six-year-old niece. Only his niece never gave him this much trouble._

_Grace chuckled happily. "Well, I would have thought that it would have been fairly obvious, but I'll tell you." She said seriously, adding with a wicked grin. "Just because you're cute."_

_"Grace." He prodded with a false bravado._

_"I was trying to get you in bed." She said pertly, as though that phrase coming out of her mouth wasn't enough to give Rigsby a heart attack._

_"Are you trying to kill me?" He groaned, leaning against the door frame to keep the distance between them. She was tempting him more than he ever knew he could withstand. "Why would you do that?"_

_"That was my secret." She cried, hiccuping slightly. "But that's alright, I will tell you anyway. Come sit here." She said, patting the seat cushion next to her for him to sit._

_Rigsby stood for a moment, not really knowing how to proceed before tentatively plopping down next to her._

_"You ready?" She asked in a hushed voice._

_"Yes Ma'm." He said nervously._

_"Here it is...I love you." She blurted, tilting her head to the side to gage his reaction. "I really do. And for a while there, I thought it was just because you were in love with me and guys never seem to be in love with me so I thought I loved you because of that. But tonight, I realized I really do love you. And it isn't about CBI rules or you being in love with me, but because I'm terrified. I'm so scared that you are just in this for the chase and the second I let you know this, I'll lose my appeal." _

_"Gracie..." He stammered, watching as she took his hand. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say that but, but you're only doing this because you're drunk."_

_Grace shook her head in denial first before eventually nodding. "You're probably right." She admitted before adding, "But I really do mean it Rigsby."_

_"I hope so." He whispered, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. "I think you just need some rest after tonight and I don't know if you really know what you're saying."_

_"So, you don't believe me?" She taunted, laughing as she stood. She smiled wickedly before laying on him a sloppy kiss that he kept his lips tightly shut during. "We've already done that." She laughed. "You were just hypnotized."_

_"So I've heard." He said patiently, leading her to his bedroom. "Come on Gracie."_

_"Are you going to give me what I came for?" She asked hopefully._

_"No." He said firmly. "You need sleep."_

_"Why are you so scared of this?" She scoffed. "I thought this was what you wanted."_

_"It is, but I don't want it like this." He admitted. "I don't want it when you don't really know what you're saying."_

_"But what if I did know?" _

_"You don't." He insisted. "I love you, but if you knew what you were saying you wouldn't say it."_

_"Well, I am sort of a coward." She mused as he helped her onto his bed. "Are you leaving me? Why don't you stay?"_

_"Because I love you." He said, knowing that she probably wouldn't remember any of this the morning after. She pouted slightly, but he just shook his head, reaffirming the situation. "Night Grace." He kissed her lightly on the forehead before going to shut off the light._

_"Night Rigsby." She smiled, falling asleep almost instantly after her head hit the pillow. _

_He waited at the door for awhile, sure that he had ruined everything before going and lying on his couch, trying to salvage a few short hours of sleep._

Now, the Monday after, she wouldn't speak to him, though it was absolutely killing him. He wondered if he ought to tell Jane, who seemed like some sort of an authority on this sort of thing, but decided against it. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass Grace.

_Don't look at her, Don't look at her, don't look at her..._He continued chanting wondering how in the world he was going to fix this.

**_An/Same song and dance as last time, let me know what you thought and I will do my best to help bring good world karma._**


	3. Chapter 3

_**An/ This is going to be one ridiculously long authors note, so if you don't want to read it, just skim down. If you are still reading...YAY!**_

_**A huge shout out goes to my new beta tgrfan23. Thanks so much for your help, I appreciate it. Its good to know that I have help trying to get the characterizations right. You are like a dream come true.**_

**_Sorry that it took so long for this next chapter, at first I just got lethargic and watched a lot of TV on DVR, so by the time I actually got around to writing it, I found me a beta. This was an exciting developement until I emailed the story and didn't hear back from her for a couple of days. So naturally I felt a little annoyed, until I recieved a PM asking if I still wanted to send her the chapter to read. Yes, I'm a moron sometimes. Thanks tgrfan23 yet again. One last time you are awesome._**

**_Thanks so much to all of you who reviewed, especially anonymously because I can't send you a thank you. You all rock._**

**_I don't own the Mentalist, shocking given my maturity level. But sleep easy friends, The Mentalist is in capable hands and not me who gets writers block._**

Chapter 3

_"Don't look at her. Don't look at her_..." Even an hour later, this was still the mantra racing through Wayne Rigsby's mind. He had his slipups in this effort, but on the whole he was doing fine. Noting that this was normally the time he got more coffee, Rigsby sat silently. In order to get more coffee, he would have to walk past Grace, and that had the potential to be the end of him. However, if he chose not to get his coffee, the entire CBI would be onto something. He was aware that it was common knowledge that he, under no circumstances, skipped on his mid-morning caffeine kick. Deciding that going through the motions of a normal day were his best chance at making it through this, he walked quickly, averting his eyes from the lovely redhead who kept her eyes glued to her computer screen. He thought he was done for when he caught a light whiff of her subtle perfume, but with the modicum of willpower his mother had taught him, he finally made it to the kitchen.

He peeked in tentatively, seeing that Jane was in there, making his tea. This could take any amount of time since Jane was anal retentive when it came to his tea. Rigsby had once had the misfortune of having to make it for him and it was an experience he didn't want to relive. He tried to decide if he wanted to risk having to talk to Jane about this, not really knowing if it was the best idea to let the ex-psychic in on the drunken exploits of Grace Van Pelt. Turning away slowly, he tried to sneak back to his desk before he heard someone loudly clearing his throat.

"I see you Rigsby." Jane said, not looking up from the cup he was stirring feverishly.

"Oh." Rigsby waved lamely. "I was just going to grab my coffee but I left my...cup at my desk so I have to go back and grab it."

"The cup that's in your hand?" Jane smiled skeptically.

"Oh, would you look at that." Rigsby feigned being startled but knew his acting left much to be desired. "Well, that was um...a close one." He went straight to the coffee machine, silently cursing his luck when he saw that it was empty. Grabbing the coffee bag from the shelf, he tried to make quick work of it.

"Rigsby, why are you avoiding my eyes?" Jane taunted.

"I'm not." Rigsby sputtered. "I just need to get back to work."

"So that's work now, avoiding Van Pelt." Jane chuckled.

"I'm not avoiding her, I'm just very busy." Rigsby reasoned but his rationalization fell upon deaf ears.

"Rigsby, every day, no matter the circumstances, you take five minutes and 'send Van Pelt vibes' as you've called it before. Except today where you've stared at your screen for the last two hours straight."

"I don't take time out of my day to send her vibes." Rigsby scoffed.

"Five minutes every day, in between when you boot up your computer and get coffee cup number one." Jane countered. Rigsby attempted to laugh but a strange choking sound came out instead.

"Rigsby, you're hiding something." Jane taunted with his natural ability.

"What? No." Rigsby shook his head, knowing that there was only a one percent chance that Jane would believe his lie.

"Yes you are." Jane said firmly. "You're avoiding eye contact and your palms are sweating. Also your upper lip is slightly contracted. Arms are kept close to you as to block me away from approaching. All these classic defensive moves are telltale signs."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Rigsby said, forcing himself to look Jane in the eyes.

"It has something to do with Van Pelt." Jane said, matter-of-factly. "She looks like she's gone through some emotional upheaval." He noted, pointing at the woman who was so anxiously watching her computer. "Just look at her."

Rigsby, thoughtlessly glanced over, his eyes burning from the memory of that epic occasion.

"Or don't look at her." Jane mused, growing more jovial. Deciding that he would give the now twitching man a dissection of the younger agent's behavior, he grinned widely. "If you look at how she's hovering over her computer, it's almost as though she's asking for it to protect her, presumably from someone in your vicinity as that's the way she's leaning. She doesn't dare look at Cho; it's as if she is ashamed of something. Grace, having unrealistic standards to which she holds herself and a moral compass that condemns any number of things, is probably facing the cognitive dissonance from doing something she knew she shouldn't have. Though narrowing that down could be quite impossible..."

_"I think I could figure it out,"_Rigsby mused to himself, but continued waiting for the coffee to brew so that he could go back to being invisible.

"My guess though would be that it's sexual in nature and involves some form of self-medicating. If Van Pelt is going to succumb to her vices, she's going to do it all the way. People who see the world in black and white tend to avoid the middle ground and do things in extremes." Jane noted. "Van Pelt wouldn't bring personal baggage to the workplace if it didn't have a seed there, which is why more than likely it has to do with you."

"You got all that from how she's sitting?" Rigsby said skeptically, feeling as though he should speak up.

"No, I got most of that from the way you're standing." Jane said truthfully. "But I could have gotten it from there. A good psychic knows how to read beyond people personally and look more into who they are most interested in."

"You said that you're not a psychic." Rigsby reminded lamely, not having a much better defense.

"No, but I know to be a good one." Jane said with a devilish grin. "If all of my observations are correct - which let's face it, they are - I would say that your best course of action is honestly facing Van Pelt and talking about what happened."

"She doesn't want to talk about it." Rigsby muttered, realizing he had broken his cover. "Because nothing happened."

"She meant what she said." Jane said, causing Rigsby to panic. "My bet is that she was too drunk to tell a lie."

"Really?" Rigsby asked before regaining his composure. "Nothing happened." He insisted before his curiosity got the better of him. "How--how did you know?"

"I know how to be a good psychic." Jane taunted, walking away with his tea.


	4. Chapter 4

_**An/ So if you would like to kick me for waiting so long to update do so now *grunts in pain* Now that its over, I am really sorry for taking so long. Life has been interesting these last few weeks, very interesting. Note that this is interesting as in wierd and not as in exciting, well it could be pending on your definition of interesting...And never mind rambling ends now. **_

**_Thanks to you who have read and reviewed. You are amazing, I would sing your praises more, but that would make this AN even longer, which I don't know if that's possible._**

**_HUGE shoutout goes to tgrfan23 for being the beta extraordinair and reminding me that updating could be a good idea. Thanks!_**

**_Honestly, I don't own Mentalist, and I am fairly sure that none of you thought I did, but I thought I'd put that out there._**

Chapter 4

"Van Pelt." Jane mused, plopping down next to the redheaded agent as she continued to avoid his eyes.

"Jane." She said politely, eyes never leaving the computer screen. She knew that this day was going wreak havoc on her vision, but she didn't care. At this moment, her dignity felt slightly more important than her eyesight.

"Grace," he pressed, a smile dancing on his lips.

"What can I do for you?" she asked, turning to face him for the first time. She kept her voice even, hoping that she could somehow get him to go away.

"You're avoiding Rigsby," he stated, not a question but a fact, his eyes surveying her reaction. He was officially in psychic mode, which Grace found very irritating, especially now.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," she lied unconvincingly, knowing that she had already been caught. _"Damn, he is good," _she mused to herself, wanting nothing more than a nice hole to crawl and die in.

"I don't believe that for one second." Jane declared. "Your cheeks are flushed--"

"Really Jane, what do you want?" she hissed in annoyance.

"Why won't you give Rigsby a chance after all he did for you--" he asked, noticing how her eyes suddenly became the size of saucers.

"He told you about that?!" she shrieked, earning a look of confusion from Cho, who went back to what he had been doing. She looked over at Rigsby, who just dropped his head, unsure if Jane was actually doing what he thought he was doing.

"Not entirely." Jane informed her. "But he is relatively easy to read and so it wasn't all that hard to deduce the events."

"That's personal." Van Pelt stated firmly. "If you have anything pertaining to the case, great. Unless--"

"You never answered my question." Jane pointed out, not fearing the empty threats that he knew she forming but not yet willing to vocalize.

"Do you ever stop talking?" she huffed rhetorically. "Rigsby isn't interested in me like that."

Jane instantly responded to her statement with a skeptical glare as his eyes told her that he did not find that amusing. "Please Van Pelt, would you at least give me a lie that someone could believe."

"It wasn't a lie." she retorted, his eyes still boring into her.

"After all the hypnotism and all of the drug induced conversations you've had with Rigsby, do you really want to try that one with someone trained in lie detection?"

"There are CBI rules against it. I care too much about my job--" Grace began, trying to rework her plan quickly.

"CBI rules that you seem to be the only person following." Jane countered. "And it isn't about that."

"Yes, it is." Grace lied again, vowing to never again be in this position.

"Van Pelt, you have a classic phobia of losing control, and with your drunken activities, you had to face your fear head on. Now, you are dealing with the thought that being around Rigsby is like inebriation for you, causing you to lose some of that precious control and so if you ever entered into a relationship it would--"

"Seriously, that's not it." Grace said, rolling her eyes for effect. "I am not afraid...I just don't feel for him like that." She cringed at this latest dishonest thought; even she didn't believe that one, and she knew without a doubt that Jane didn't buy it either.

"Grace," Jane said sternly. "If we are going to go with any of your pathetic attempts at lying, let's just stay with the CBI rules excuse, that was at least believable."

"I happen to be a very good liar," she defended.

"Please," he retorted. "You are far too moral to be a good liar; also, lying takes a small amount of personal risk which you continually fail to--"  
"If you bring up that I have control issues again I don't know what I'll do to you, but--" she sputtered.

"Your threats are like your lies ... empty," he mused. "You distracted me for a moment. If we are going based off the assumption that you are afraid to break the rules, which by the way does stem from control issues, it would be easier if someone gave you a model to follow."

"Sure," she shrugged, not fully understanding where he was going with this line of inquiry.

"Do you really think Lisbon would transfer you for breaking the 'No dating' rule?" he asked skeptically.

"She might not have a choice--" Grace concluded.

"Because Lisbon is always about following the rules, right?" He gave her a wicked grin, causing her to want to slap him. She stared him down in annoyance, because he continually proved that Lisbon could overlook the rules. For some reason, on every case, he did something entirely illegal that Lisbon smoothed over. But Grace, she was not the type who got exceptions made for her; she was the type who always got caught.

Jane continued, realizing that Grace was stuck there. "So, if the job isn't actually an obstacle, the only factor left is your control issues."

"I do not have control issues." she spat bitingly.

"See, your control issues are so big, that you can't stand the idea that I think that you have them. You have to control that too." He said triumphantly, pointing an accusing finger at her.

"Seriously Jane, if you have anything work related to talk about, spill it." She said deftly. "If not, than I have work to do."

"You know that Rigsby would never hurt you."

"I never said he would," she replied. "Work?"

"Throw the man a bone," he suggested, causing her to roll her eyes.

"You've psychoanalyzed me enough for one day," she declared.

"How is it that someone with so much faith in the paranormal has no faith whatsoever in a coworker who has done nothing but prove to you that he will try to protect you?" he asked, shaking his head at her.

"I really do have work," she repeated, knowing that if he hadn't listened to this excuse the last five times she'd tried it, he wasn't going to listen to it now.

"If you had shown up at any other man's door, do you think that he would have told you no?" Jane pressed.

"Rigsby is a good guy, I will give you that," she said softly.

"Would you just try to make it right with him?"  
"There is nothing that--" she began to lie before begrudgingly relenting. "Fine."

"I mean it," he pressed, instantly knowing that she wasn't really planning on it.

"I just ... feel so stupid," she confided, blushing furiously.

"Don't worry, Rigsby won't notice." he promised, getting up from his chair. "I mean it."

**_An/So now ya'll have the option of giving me the silent treatment for not posting and not reviewing, or encourage further Rigsby/VanPelt Developement and Review...The choice is yours. Just remember, good karma comes to those who review._**


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